homework one

I am not my thoughts today
they belong to my brain
which is just part of my body
oh doctor please explain
'cause you said to pay attention
and accept them, every one
and don't criticize or judge them
well, I ask you, where's the fun?

I'm the patient of a therapist
and I'm very obedient
I need to figure out this stuff
and I must be expedient
(I'm hope the doc will be impressed
by the big words I'm using
so I can put off telling him
I find this all confusing)

if I am not my thoughts
then what am I, pray tell?
just an dusty cardboard shoebox
or some hollow empty shell
that you hold to your ears
to hear the never-ending sea
that's my brain doing the thinking
it does not belong to me

so is there no way to change
the thoughts inside my mind
that play a running commentary
all the fuckin' time?
hopefully, with therapy,
perhaps someday I'll know
and my therapist will point and laugh
and say "I told you so!"

forbidden tattoo (possible chorus or bridge)

mama don't know
papa don't know
nobody knows but you
mama don't know
papa don't know
about the forbidden tattoo

by the books she reads

I can tell who she really is
by the books she reads
I check out books
at the local library
so I know

forbidden tattoo

she got a forbidden tattoo
for her sixteenth birthday
and she's gonna show it to you
she's been planning for this evening
all her life
and she knows exactly what she's going to do
she may flirt a bit
raise her skirt a bit
there's a chance that it might hurt a bit
but it's the night to be
exactly who she wants to be

she's been looking at you
mr skateboard senior
pendejo of the class
the kind of kid who tells authority
to stick it up its academic ass
well, you brought some wine
and she's looking fine
and there's Jose with the ganja
in the conga line
and it's her night to be
exactly who she wants to be

a folder named conjecture

I got a filing cabinet
in the attic of my mind
it's gray and made of steel
and the contents are all mine
there's my stack of poor excuses
receipts from 2009
and a folder named conjecture

I like to makeup stories
about stuff that I don't know
like how nobody likes me
and why my IQ is so low
or if my spirit's high
I'm thinking "hey! look out below!"
they're all going into 
a folder named conjecture

          I only feel safe
          when something's going wrong
          me and positive thinking
          we just don't get along

so if I'm in depression
and I'm feeling insecure
I'll tell you all a story
that I know is pretty sure
about how sometimes the symptoms
are more harmful than the cure
just look in a folder named conjecture
don't make me go and give all y'all a lecture
it's all there
inside a folder named conjecture

asshole song

you'll have to excuse me
I'm not feeling like myself
I'm being an asshole today
in a couple minutes
you'll wish I were something else
'cause I'm being an asshole today
I'm claiming my ground
and I'm staking my claim
and any other cliches
that you want to exclaim
I wouldn't be near me
unless you want to feel drained
I'm being an asshole
(I know -- it's such a hassle)
I'm being an asshole today!

I can't look at anything anymore

I see a post on facebook
about how your life should be graded an A
but I don't know what it said
because I had to look away
seems I can't look at anything anymore